


I Loved and I Loved and I Lost You

by ShadowMistWolf



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Marichat, Will probably make you cry, this is really not ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-08 20:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16436108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowMistWolf/pseuds/ShadowMistWolf
Summary: He loved the hero in the mask, then he loved the sweet girl who lived above the bakery, then he lost everything.





	I Loved and I Loved and I Lost You

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Hurts like Hell by Fleurie.

Stars twinkled faintly in the sky above Paris, a calm settling over the city as night descended and people retired to their warm beds, but there was a shadow slipping over the rooftops. Moonlight gleamed off blonde locks and a silver staff as the figure moved silently, black suit rippling with each movement and emerald eyes gleamed in the dark despite the nervous pounding of his pulse in his chest. Ahead, a balcony was glowing with candle light, steam wafting up from two mugs that sat on a quaint table with two chairs, one of which was occupied by a patiently waiting girl. 

Bright blue eyes looked up from the sketchbook set in front of her and a soft smile curled her lips up when he landed with barely a sound on the rail, pausing to take in what he could only describe as perfection. His heart skipped a beat as the light made her glow, and skipped again when she giggled lightly in the otherwise silent night, breaking him from his trance.

“Are you planning on staying there all night, Kitty? Your hot chocolate’s going to get cold.” With a smile of his own, he slid down to the wood and moved forward to meet her as she rose,

“Sorry, Purrincess, you just took my breath away is all.” With another amused giggle and a slight flush to her cheeks -even after almost six years he still made her blush with the smallest compliments- she reached up to meet his lips with her own, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders as his own found her hips, pulling her closer. They stood together for a moment after moving apart, staring with clear adoration in their eyes.

“Come sit, before it really does get cold.” Over the years Marinette Dupain-Cheng had gone from pom-pom pigtails to a half up-half down style, the top falling into a braid and secured with her signature crimson ribbon, and she had filled out with graceful if deceiving curves that hid surprising strength. She went from a shy, awkward girl to one of the most confident and amazing people Chat Noir had ever met. 

She pulled him to the second seat only to squeal in surprise when he twirled her around and sat, dragging her into his lap with his arms secured around her slim waist and chin resting with a content smirk on her shoulder. Marinette could only huff with a fond smile on her lips, passing a mug and taking a sip from her own. Her boyish chaton had grown up from a lanky teen full of puns and flirty comments into a devoted gentleman, his puns however stuck around just as the flirty comments, but she didn’t mind the latter as much because she knew they were only for her. The low rumbling purr against her back was a like a spell for instant relaxation, it meant she was safe, warm, and loved. 

She met a stray cat once, in the pouring rain, and had bundled him inside without a thought. She had given him a dry towel and food and he had returned again. So she gave him food, warmth, laughter, peace, friendship, and a safe haven from the storm that was life. He had returned her gifts with unshakable affection and companionship, and when he had asked, so nervously when they were but eighteen and nineteen, to accept his heart, she hesitated for but a moment before confessing her own feelings to him. Now her cat was no longer a stray, he was hers, and she had the ring to prove it.

* * *

He saw the blade, watched through clouded vision and a pounding head as it clashed with the red and black yo-yo. His hand gripped the metal behind him, now dented from the impact of his body against it, and pulled himself onto shaking legs. Bloody and aching, Chat Noir snatched his pole from the ground and rushed forward, deflecting a strike and giving his partner a chance to fall back for a moment’s respite. 

“So annoyingly persistent, give me the Miraculouses!!” Another gash on the shoulder opened up as Hawkmoth doubled down on his attacks. Chat grimaced at the pain but refused to yield, forcing his arms to move faster, meet the deadly weapon with more force, but he hadn’t noticed the glint of victory in his opponents eyes when his foot caught the turned up edge of a section of metal plate. His name tore from Ladybug’s throat before something slammed into his side, out of the path of bloodied steel. 

He flipped back to his feet on impact, sliding to a stop and about to throw himself back at the villain when his breath hitched painfully. In the light of the Eiffel Tower it was easy to see the darker shade spreading from his Lady’s chest, the sword disappearing into her trembling chest. Everything felt still, so still and _fake_ that he wanted it to stop. He wanted this image before him to disappear, _to shatter_. 

_“CATACLYSM!!!!”_

Pink and white danced off to one side, and it took a second to register that Hawkmoth was staggering away with two black spotted red earring in hand as his own slammed into the metal under foot, claws gouging deep. He was moving -when had he moved?- and then he was in the air with a heavy weight in his arms. The tower, the iconic symbol of Paris, was crumbling behind them as he hit the ground, falling to his knees in exhaustion. 

“M’L-” for a moment, it felt like the world had crashed down along with the structure, that his heart had been ripped from his chest along with the words from his mouth and the breath from his lungs. His hands shook as he held the limp form of his partner, his best friend. His Lady, who was his princess, his love, his entire world. Marinette.

His sweet, gentle and caring Marinette, bruised and bloodied in his arms. The pain was gone, a numbness settled into place as everything fell away, everything but him and her. The chill of the concrete under his knees was nothing compared to the cold that had settled into her skin as he cupped her cheek, the piercing chime of his ring drowned out by the ringing in his ears. A drop of rain fell against her face and slid down the pale complexion, another following until he realized that they weren’t drops of rain, but tears. He was crying. His chest was suddenly aflame, his heart constricted. He choked out a breath, then a sob, then her name. 

He hated it. Hated how heavy she laid in his arms, how still, how cold. He wanted to tear it all down, he wanted to see her breathtaking blue bell eyes shining in the light of the setting sun, run her ebony locks through his hands and hear her beautiful laugh, see her smile, hear her voice. But he failed. He failed his princess, his partner. It was too much. Everything was too much. It surrounded him, smothered him, _drowned him._

One drop, two, then the clouds opened in earnest, pouring down as if in mourning. Rain overtook his tears, amplified his sorrow and the twisted pain that consumed his heart and mind. Ladybug, the beloved hero of Paris, was dead. And Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the kindest woman in Paris was gone with her. 

He had loved Ladybug from the day they met, he had fallen for Marinette after witnessing her bravery for himself. It should have been him. Chat Noir was nothing without Ladybug by his side, to balance his destruction with her creation, his impulsiveness with her plans. _He needed her._ With and without the mask he would always need her. He clutched her to him defiantly, desperately. Hoping, wishing, praying. But it did nothing, her heart was forever frozen in death’s embrace while his own would cried out for her.

The growing pressure in his chest was unbearable, so he screamed. He screamed his agony to the heavens, screamed the rage, the regret, the loss, the _pain._ The whole of Paris echoed with it, even the rain was no match for the raw emotion. Anyone who heard it was frozen, the sound tearing into their souls, and they knew.

* * *

Alya Césaire had worn plenty of black before, but never for a funeral. She would never imagined in her wildest dreams that her first would be for her best friend. She stared sightlessly at the open casket before her, gut twisting at the perfect pale face that was there, framed by carefully set black hair, lips painted with a light pink. It felt wrong, being able to so easily picture the woman opening her eyes, to image her sitting up and laughing at them, like it had all been some joke. Except it wasn’t. She wanted to cry, but she couldn’t, it had to hurt for her to cry, and nothing hurt anymore. It was numb. Hollow. 

A satin dress with a mesh turtleneck and sleeves, red with black spots. Crimson and white and pink roses were clasped under her hands, a simple silver band adorned her ring finger. The sight of it jolted her heart. She knew what it was, who it had come from. 

Marinette’s parents had wanted a small ceremony, but in the end relented to having an open funeral following a private one. Paris had lost a hero, but Tom and Sabine had to bury their daughter. The rain hadn’t stopped for more than a few hours at a time, casting a shadow across the mourning city. Alya had seen the people outside the church, the sea of black that waited patiently to pay their respects, and it moved her to see those Ladybug had touched with her selfless bravery, even more to see those Marinette had touched through her kindness and support. 

She had seen many familiar faces pass her by, many from school, but one of the edge of her vision caught her attention. A mop of blonde hair, but when she turned to look it was gone. Returning to the casket, she took notice of a new bouquet of flowers having replaced those being held. Red, white, and pink carnations along with white chrysanthemums.

Nino squeezed on their clasped hands, and she realized just how hard her grip had become and she loosened it, and with that her tears fell. Her heart ached again, and she cried. She turned to her own fiance and buried her face into his chest, letting her grief spill out once more.

* * *

Five years had passed, and the people of Paris woke one day to find a shocking sight. The destroyed Eiffel Tower once more stood in all its glory. Many wondered what had happened, Chat Noir and Hawkmoth had both seemingly vanished the night Ladybug had died. There hadn’t been another akuma attack since, and with time people assumed that the villain had finally gotten what he wanted. 

Few knew any better, and Alya was one of them. After all, even less knew of the real relationship between Chat Noir and Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and she had been privy to that secret as well. He had come to her, weeks later covered in dirt and blood, and told her everything. The days he spent hunting down Hawkmoth, fighting battle after battle to recover the Miraculous he had stolen, to avenge the death of the woman he loved. 

Hawkmoth had run, and the black cat had chased. For five years the man had evaded the claws of his adversary, until they had come full circle, a confrontation at the spot of the Eiffel Tower which now held an everlasting memorial. Chat spoke little of what events occurred, only that Hawkmoth was gone for good, stripped of his Miraculous, and the Ladybug was safe from him as well. He had gone to her then too, set the earrings in her hand with the plea to fix things, and all but collapsed to the floor. 

She met Tiki, the Kwami of the Ladybug Miraculous, and her heart promptly broke all over again when the small god dissolved into inconsolable tears. Any hope that using a Miraculous Cure would reverse the untimely passing her her friend vanished as she explained through tears and sobs that it was impossible because Marinette had lost the miraculous before her death. Even so, Alya donned the spotted guise and threw the yo-yo skyward, watching with tear-filled eyes as the swarm washed over the city. Chat Noir woke just a few minutes later, after the earrings were safely put away in small box, and for a while the two sat in silence.

“It’s really over…” he had whispered into the heavy silence, and she had nodded in response.

“Yeah, it’s over.” 

“Plagg, Claws in.” Alya Césaire was a smart woman, even in her youth, so seeing Adrien Agreste, her highschool friend, sitting there with a small cat-like kwami was not much of a surprise. If anything it was bittersweet. Marinette had had the biggest, most adorable crush on him after they met, but she had given him up for Chat Noir. She had fallen unknowingly in love with the same person twice. 

“You can spend the night here, if you want.” She found herself offering, knowing fully well it would mean a lengthy explanation to Nino when he got home. 

“No, thank you Alya, but there’s someone I need to see before I do anything else.” It went unsaid, but she knew what he meant, so she nodded in understanding and watched him leave with the Miraculouses tucked away in a pocket. 

The next morning she found a fresh bouquet of carnations and chrysanthemums on both Marinette’s grave and the memorial that was now sheltered by the Eiffel Tower, and she never again saw Adrien Agreste in the city of Paris.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Miraculous Ladybug or any of its characters  
> For those of you who are curious about the flowers: Red carnations symbolize love, pride and admiration. Pink stand for remembrance of the deceased. White symbolize untainted love and innocence, and white chrysanthemums symbolize adversity, lamentation, and/or grief.


End file.
